


Jumping to Conclusions

by oui_oui_mon_ami



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex with glasses, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But he's only briefly mentioned anyway, Flustered Thomas, Gen, Henry Laurens is a dick in this, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wrote most of this in bed at 11pm, M/M, The world needs more mullette tbh, Thomas is just such a dork, Thomas isn't a dick in this, forgive me lin, i'm v sorry, mullette, so it's pretty bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oui_oui_mon_ami/pseuds/oui_oui_mon_ami
Summary: In which both Alex and Thomas have regrets.Based off the prompt: "I mistook you for my friend at the airport and gave you a running hug and accidentally knocked you to the ground"





	

**Author's Note:**

> I basically wrote this on my phone last night at 11pm as I was lying in bed and as I was reading through it this morning I started to realise how tired I was getting bc it didn't make any sense lmao
> 
> I apologise in advance

Alex’s patience was beginning to wear thin. As much as he was excited to welcome his friend Lafayette back to New York from his trip to France, the fact that it was almost midnight and his flight (which had already been delayed for half an hour) had landed an hour ago put a slight damper on his spirits. Seriously, how long could baggage reclaim take?

“You’d be surprised,” John said beside him. Alex hadn’t realised that he’d voiced that question out loud, he was so tired. He really shouldn’t have stayed up all night finishing that report two months in advance. “Once when we went on a family holiday to a ski resort in Europe, our luggage ended up being sent to Hong Kong,” John continued. “God, was my father angry.”

“What happened?” Hercules asked. Alex could see the nervousness on his face; Hercules missed Laf more than either Alex or John during the week the Frenchman was away, and it was clear as day that they were both dancing around each other, waiting for the other to make the first move and confess the feelings that they obviously shared.

“It took a day, but we got our luggage back,” John replied. “Dad did an awful lot of shouting though. He tends to do an awful lot of shouting.”

Alex frowned, seeing how uncomfortable John was becoming when talking about his father. Alex didn’t know much about John’s family life – he didn’t like to press for answers about personal things; he knew what it like to have a past that was better kept hidden – but he knew that John and his father had never seen eye to eye.

He took off his glasses to rub his eyes, trying to push back the exhaustion that was threatening to wash over him like a wave. _Nope. Bad simile_. That was when he saw a Lafayette-shaped figure walk through the arrivals gate. Tall, dark-skinned, with a mop of curly hair let down like a halo around his head instead of tied up like usual. Without thinking, he took off towards the blurry figure, ignoring the exclamations of his friends. He launched himself at his friend and wrapped his arms around him with a shout of “Laf!” but instead of hugging him back, Lafayette simply fell to the floor, underneath Alex.

“The fuck?” a deep voice with a distinct not-French accent exclaimed.

Alex frowned at the man underneath him, a blush threatening to make an appearance across his cheeks. “You’re not Laf,” he said.

\---

Thomas’ day was not going well.

Reason number one: He woke up that morning already running late for his flight home. Normally, Thomas was a punctual person – and a morning person – but he still managed to have jet lag from seven days in France.

Reason number two: He was held up at the airport because his passport photograph apparently looked suspiciously like that of another passenger, a Frenchman with so many names that the officials were wondering whether his passport was even real. Honestly, Thomas couldn’t see the resemblance between the two of them, and the whole ordeal had delayed the flight by half an hour.

Reason number three: Thanks to a mix-up in First Class, Thomas was stuck in a central seat in economy class between a burly man with obnoxiously loud music blaring out of his headphones and an angry middle-aged woman who glared daggers at him every time he moved even an inch. He didn’t want to start any arguments, so he sat very still and very quietly during the entire flight, almost on the verge of an anxiety attack for almost eight hours. He managed to calm himself down in the bathroom when he got off the plane, but it was still an experience he wouldn’t want to repeat. Thank goodness he had got his money back for that first class ticket.

Reason number four: The exact same thing happened at passport control with that Frenchman, which delayed them for another half an hour, after which they had to track down their luggage, which had been taken off the conveyor belt as Thomas and the Frenchman had taken so long.

Reason number five: As Thomas emerged through the arrivals gate, ready to catch a taxi home and collapse onto his bed, he was hit with something akin to a wrecking ball.

He felt the air get knocked out of him and he lost his balance, falling to the floor. Whatever hit him landed on top of him, on his chest. Thomas wasn’t sure if he wanted to see what had knocked him down.

Nevertheless, he cracked open his eyes with an annoyed-sounding “The fuck?” before promptly gasping at possibly the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen looking down at him. They were dark and intelligent, and they seemed older than they should have. They belonged to a young man who was currently frowning down at him, confused. Adorable, Thomas thought.

“You’re not Laf,” the man said, his intelligent eyes searching Thomas’ face.

Thomas frowned. “Uh, no, I’m not,” he said, still lost in those eyes. “You must be a real good friend to mistake them for someone else,” he drawled.

The man’s frown deepened as he donned a pair of glasses. Thomas suppressed another gasp; this guy was even more cute with the glasses. He was scanning Thomas’ face again, and was that a blush making an appearance across his cheeks? “Well, excuse me for thinking that you both look similar when you’re blurry,” he said, getting off Thomas’ chest and sitting on the floor.

Realisation dawned on Thomas, and he groaned as he stood up. “Oh my God, you thought I was the French guy? This has been the third time today that I’ve been told we look similar, and I really don’t see the resemblance.”

The man shrugged up at him from his position on the floor. “Me neither, to be honest. Now that I’m wearing my glasses, I can definitely say that Lafayette is better looking.”

Thomas snorted, surprised that he didn’t feel anger at that remark as he normally would have done. The man was smirking at him, a mischievous glint in those dark eyes of his. Thomas could feel himself being dragged into that gaze, and for once he didn’t fight it.

He held out a hand politely to the man, who took it gratefully. Thomas pulled him up – a little too hard, as it happened; the man was light as a feather and collided again with Thomas’ chest. Both of them froze, Thomas’ skin on fire wherever it came into contact with the warmth of the man’s body. He could feel a blush prickling up under his skin, and he willed himself to say something that wasn’t going to embarrass either one of them.

“Wow, you’re short,” was the statement that came out of his mouth, and he regretted it immediately.

He felt the man sigh against his chest, which didn’t do anything to get rid of the blush that Thomas suspected was pretty clear now. Fortunately, the man didn’t make any move to extract himself from him. “And you’re tall, beanpole,” the man mumbled into Thomas’ sweater.

That was when Thomas heard wolf whistles and shouting behind him.

\---

Alex regretted everything.

He had just jumped on top of a complete stranger, knocking him to the ground. Then, once he had put his glasses on – he probably should have done that before deciding to (literally) jump to conclusions – he had realised that this stranger was very, _very_ hot. And then he had lied about that fact to said stranger.

Now Alex was pressed against the stranger, his head buried in his chest and his arms around his waist so that he didn’t lose his balance and end up on the floor again. And _woah_ , this guy smelled nice. And he was warm. Maybe no-one would notice if he remained in this position for a little while longer…

“Wow, you’re short,” the man said, pulling Alex out of his – very dangerous – train of thought. Alex’s immediate reaction was _Asshole_ , but he was just stating a fact, and Alex was pretty short in comparison to him… wait, why was he making excuses for this guy?

“And you’re tall, beanpole,” he managed to say into the man’s sweater, which was soft and magenta and should have looked hideous, but Alex doubted that anything would look bad on this man.

He heard wolf whistles and cheering nearby, and peered around the man to spot John and Hercules grinning at them, shouting phrases like “Get it!” and “Just kiss already!”. Alex flipped them off before pulling a face up at the man. “Sorry about my friends,” he said, blushing. Although he had been blushing well before his friends started shouting.

The man laughed nervously, and Alex thought that it was just hope that was telling him that a blush was spreading across his face as well. “No problem,” he said. “I know several people like that.”

\---

Thomas didn’t know several people like that. He only really had one friend – James – who was certainly not the kind of person to start shouting in the middle of a public space. But the man looked so embarrassed about his friends, and Thomas wanted to say something to make him feel a little better.

\---

Alex sighed in relief before realising that he still had to account for the fact that he had actually knocked this man to the floor.

“Um,” he began eloquently, “I’m really sorry about, uh, jumping on you.”

The man laughed, a little more confident this time, and it made Alex’s heart flutter. “I’d normally be mad, but you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide.” The man seemed to recognise what he’d said after he said it, and froze, the blush across his cheeks becoming clearer by the second.

Alex, most likely equally red, simply grinned up at him. “You think I’m cute?” he asked flirtatiously.

The man sputtered, searching for words. Alex would have enjoyed the power that he had, but he was finding the man way too adorable to do anything more than simply watch with a smile on his face. “Uh, I… guess so?” the man said uncertainly. “I mean, you’re short and cute, like a kid. But… more than that? You’re really good-looking-” he broke off, avoiding Alex’s eyes in embarrassment.

Just then they were interrupted once again by cheering from John and Hercules. But this time it wasn’t directed at Alex – Lafayette had finally appeared through the gates, and his face lit up at the sight of his friends. He started running towards them, and Hercules met him halfway, wrapping him in a tight hug. The Frenchman clung to him for dear life until Hercules drew back to stare at Laf. Even from where Alex was standing, he could spot the determination in Hercules’ eyes as he made up his mind and crashed his lips into Lafayette’s. Laf immediately melted into the kiss, and John whooped, bouncing up and down in excitement at two of his best friends finally getting their shit together. Alex cheered as well.

Suddenly, Alex felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around to smile at the man he’d jumped on top of. “I’m Thomas Jefferson, by the way,” the man said, extending a hand.

“Alex Hamilton,” Alex replied, shaking Thomas’ hand and trying not to blush at the contact. “I’d really like to chat, but my friends probably want to leave now.”

Thomas nodded. “That’s fair. Can I give you my number? I’d, um, I’d like to see you again.”

Alex’s heart leaped. “Me too! Of course!” He quickly handed over his phone so that Thomas could create a contact for himself.

“Come on, Alexander!” Lafayette shouted to him. “Stop making heart-eyes at my doppelganger and get over here so that we can go home!”

Alex and Thomas both rolled their eyes. “We seriously don’t look alike!” Thomas exclaimed.

“It is a compliment to look like me, _mon ami_!” Lafayette replied. Hercules snorted and took Lafayette’s hand in his.

Thomas handed Alex’s phone back to him and gave him a small smile. “Talk to you later, Alex!” he said as he walked in the other direction with his luggage.

Alex practically skipped back to his friends and ignored their comments in favour of taunting Hercules and Lafayette about their new relationship. However, when he got into Hercules’ car, he brought up Thomas’ number. He immediately started to grin; the dork had named his contact “Thomas from the airport <3”.

John looked over at him. “You’re not sexting that hot guy already, are you?” he asked.

Alex stuck his tongue out at his best friend. “And what if I am?” he asked.

John rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “Okay, next time we go out, I’m gonna try your technique of leaping on top of a good-looking guy and pinning him to the ground.”

“Please don’t do that,” Lafayette said from the passenger seat where he was still holding Hercules’ hand. “We don’t want to have to get you out of jail again.”

John sighed. “We’ve been over this, it was an overnight holding cell and the guy totally deserved it.”

Alex grinned and sat back to watch the friendly argument unfold in front of him. Somehow, he no longer felt exhausted.

**Author's Note:**

> I had n o idea how to end this
> 
> If you're reading this, thanks for staying until the end I guess? And I'm v sorry


End file.
